


Remember Me

by Ishxallxgood



Series: We Keep this Love in a Photograph [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Hannibal Loves Will, M/M, Missing Scene, Poor Molly, The first tag is angst so that should tip you off, Will Loves Hannibal, Will and Molly's wedding night, set during the three year time skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 00:34:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13306650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ishxallxgood/pseuds/Ishxallxgood
Summary: Alana subtly alerts Hannibal to Will's marriage to Molly.  Hannibal reflects upon Will and what they shared.Will wants to forget Hannibal and everything they shared, but on his wedding night, all he can think about is Hannibal.Inspired byMarc Anthony's Remember Me.  Mentions tothe photographHannibal received inPhotograph.





	Remember Me

Hannibal refused to give Alana the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, he stood there stone faced and still. Retreating back into the depths of his memory palace, he blocked out the scents Alana brought in with her. She reeked of his Will and his dogs. Of that atrocious aftershave and a perfume foreign to his nose. Of sunflowers and roses, pine and grass. Of beef tenderloin and root vegetables. A tiny flicker of a smile pulled at the corner of his lip as he wondered if dear Will included the bird skulls in the plating. Probably not.

His right hand twitched ever so slightly as he fought back the urge to retrieve that photograph from his pocket. He refused to let Alana get the best of him. He knew Alana waltzed in there knowing he would pick up on those subtle scents clinging to her. He knew she was here to garner a reaction from him. He knew she thought she was being sly. That she could hit him where it hurt the most with the knowledge that his Will had moved on.

It was unsurprising that his Will found someone to settle down with. In a way Hannibal had expected it.  For his beloved mongoose to twist the knife he had driven into his heart.  Dear Will would have had to have found someone else to ground him.  To  _make_ him forget. To finalize the rejection.

It's not enough though. To know that he had loved and lost. Just a thought, to know he had it all. Although times can change, he knew that love does not grow old. They have turned the page, and now he turns down his bed alone.

Despite it all, he was confident that his Will could not never forget him. Even though he had said he would. For how could he forget? They were conjoined were they not? Severing their connection would not bode well for dear Will.  Did his beloved mongoose truly believe that either of them would possibly survive this separation? Did dear Will understand that he was everything he ever needed.

Hannibal release a breathless sigh through his nose. It was time to drop this train of thought. There are no words left for him to say. There was too much to regret.  Dear Will had made his bed in the arms of someone new.  Perhaps in another life, Will was where he should be.  Now, he'll never know, what it's like to love.  To be whole.

Time slipped by as he waged a silent battle with Alana. Neither one of them giving an inch, but he knew that Alana would be the first to break. He would not be giving her anything. That minuscule twitch of his lip and hand was all he was going to afford her. She can gloat all she wants. He retreated back into his mind. Where his beloved mongoose was still his. Where he can run from him. Where Hannibal knew it was only a matter of time when he would come crawling back. Broken and defeated. For how could his Will possibly replace a love so strong?  When he can't forget his face.

Hannibal was pretty sure an hour had passed when Alana finally cleared her throat and drew him out of his memory palace. He silently quirked an eyebrow at her. She pursed her lips as if she was going to say something but decided against it. When he refused to give her any more than, she abruptly turned on her heel and exited the room.

Staring at the empty space she was standing in, he waited until the door clicked closed and then inhaled deeply.

Buried under everything else, he was able to isolate the scent of his beloved Will. Tucking it away inside his head he finally turned away and sat down on the bunk. Pulling the photograph from his pocket he stared into those beautiful blue eyes that he missed more than the sun.

 _Will_.

His beautiful Will.  His infuriating Will.  His love.  His life.  Hannibal wanted to scream.  To hit something.  _Someone._   Perhaps to drag a knife across dear Will’s abdomen again.  Do something.  _Anything_.  Anything to make this hurt go away.

He wasn't sure why he felt so betrayed. It wasn't as if dear Will hadn't explicitly stated that he wouldn't miss him. That he didn't want to chase him anymore, didn't want to think about him. It wasn't as if his Will hadn't thoroughly rejected him by sending him that accursed photograph (which his cherished more than life itself). And yet… Hannibal drank in that letter again. A flicker of hope ignited within his soul.

Somewhere deep inside the recesses of that beautiful mind of his, dear Will still remembered. Remembered everything that they’ve been through. The laughter and the tears that fell. The mundane and the magical.  All the glory. All the pain.  All the passion, that turned to ashes.  But would surely rise again.  He could wait.  As long as it took. He could wait. Dear Will _will_ come home.

* * *

 

Will stared blankly at the simple gold band around his finger. It weighed heavy on his hand. A reminder of what he left behind. _Who_ he left behind. It was ludicrous. If someone told him five years ago that he would be married, have a son, and seven dogs he would have laughed in their face. If someone told him five years ago that he would meet his other half, the one who had been torn from him at the dawn of time, only to cast them away, he would have punched them in the face.

Yet, here he was. Lying on a bed with his newly christened wife. Lamenting the fact that she was not his other half. That despite the charade, he was still a lonely two legged creature. Cut right down the center, right through his heart.

The gods were cruel.  Yet, perhaps they should be.  Perhaps they were simply terrified of their strength and defiance were they to be whole.  It was a cold, dark evening, such a long time ago.  When they were separated by the might hand of Jove. It's funny to think that  _Hannibal_ would be the origin of love for him.

The warmth of Molly's head against his shoulder sent a chill down his spine.  Sweet, innocent Molly. Who deserved his love.  Deserved his heart. But his heart was cut in half, and the half he possessed, well it was something he couldn't give away.

God he was such a mess.

When Molly shifted away from him in her sleep, he took the opportunity to slip off of the bed. Quietly padding his way across the room he entered the en suite and gently closed the door behind him.  Leaning against the counter Will dug his palms into his eyes and groaned. A dull laugh followed, which quickly devolved into shallow sobs. He was supposed to be happy. This was his wedding night for fuck's sake. Molly was a good woman. Strong, fierce, simple, honest and open. She was soft and endearing. Never probed too deep, satisfied with just scratching the surface. Content with what he was willing to give. A true negative of Hannibal.

 _Hannibal_.

Will shoved a towel into his mouth and let out a scream. Fucking Hannibal. He had meant it then when he said he didn't want to search for Hannibal anymore.  Didn’t want to think about him anymore.  But some things were embedded too deeply in his bone arena to forget.  Like curve of his smile. The warmth of his eyes. The comfort of his touch. The conversations they shared. The way they fit together.  The way they used to dance around each other.  Deadly and precise.  Full of passion and _love_.

It was unfair.  The fact that they were conjoined. The fact that despite everything, he could never get Hannibal out of his head.  The fact that his inner voice still sound like _him_ . The fact that whenever he looked at his now _wife_ all he can see is all the ways that she’s simply _not him_.  

Will knew it was a lost cause the moment Hannibal’s knees hit the snow.  He knew it was a lost cause when the trial started.  He knew it was a lost cause the moment their eyes met in court.  He knew it was a lost cause the night he desperately searched for that photograph.  He knew it was a lost cause when he said ‘ _I do_ ’ and all he could see was Hannibal.

He was supposed to forget.  He was supposed to not miss him.  He was supposed to move on with his life.  He was supposed to be happy with his _wife_.

_Molly._

She was supposed to make all these feelings go away.  She was supposed to purge him of all things _Hannibal_ .  She was supposed to be his new paddle.  Yet all he could do was compare the new one to the old one.  And in comparing the two, he had come to realize just how much he missed the old one. _Ached for it._ The paddle that he tossed aside.   _Abandoned_.  There was no going back for it now.  But if he could, he’d be a king, because he remembered _everything_.

A choked sob escaped him as the embedded image of that photograph flashed in his mind. Hannibal. _His_ Hannibal. It was unfair how badly he still wanted Hannibal. How he simply couldn’t let him go.

Oh how desperately he just wanted to forget. To forget all the pain and regret. To forget what it felt to be seen. To be known. To be whole. To be _loved_.  It could be argued that Molly loved him. She married him didn't she? But then again, he knew that she only loved a version of him. The version he crafted for the world. If she were to see him, the _real_ him, the him Hannibal knew and loved, it would be fear rather than love reflected on her eyes. Of this he was sure.

It wasn’t fair.

The way Hannibal wormed his way into his life and changed _everything_. He literally rearranged every aspect of Will’s life, and now, now Will was left with nothing more than memories.  Memories he wished to lock away in the far recesses of his mind forever.  Memories of all the laughter and the tears that fell.  Of the mundane and the magical.  Of all the glory. Of all the pain.  Of all the passion, that turned to ashes.  That he would _never_ let rise again.  He had Molly now.  He could build a new home.  Find solace in someone new.

Folding in on himself Will slipped down to the floor.  Burying his head in his knees he allowed the sobs to escape.  He refused to allow himself to remember Hannibal.   _His Hannibal_. But he also knew he could never forget.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to end this not so angsty. Like hopeful angsty, but unfortunately since it ends in the middle of the three year timeskip, there is no happy ending. As Will actively tries to forget Hannibal for three year. :(


End file.
